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Father  Tom  and  the  Pope. 


^\tW 


Jatlter  i0m  mi  ^\t  %^t, 


OR 


A  Night  in  the   Vatican. 


NEW    YORK: 
A.    SIMPSON    &    CO., 

1867. 


Agatktmiam  Pr£8s,  6o  Duane  Street,  N.  Y. 


PREFACE. 


T 


HERE  are  several  questions  which  at  this 
present  time  remain  unsettled.  One  of  them  is, 
"who  invented  gunpowder  f  Another  is,  which 
of  them  was  it,  Faust  or  Guttemberg,  ^^  that  in- 
vented printing?''  Another  is,  '■'■  whether  the  Deity 
created  nature^  or  nature  created  itself  V  That 
is  a  poser.  Another  is  '*  whether  the  original  egg 
was  the  parent  of  the  chicken.,   or  the  egg  was  the 


VI  PREFACE. 

original  ancestor  of  that  celebrated  feathered  fowl?" 
"  De  novum  ol'«w,"  says  Xinctillios,  "  inseperatum 
primer 0^  cum  possibilitas,  et  credentia^  in  meo  judicio, 
quam  supra  calcis  phospas,  qui  est,  in  the  bones  of  the 
chicken."  In  other  words,  and  to  make  it  plain 
to  the  reader,  he,  Xinctillios,  cannot  understand 
how  it  is  possible  for  human  comprehension  to 
see  a  new  laid  egg,  without  permitting  in  his  judg- 
ment the  idea  of  phosphate  of  lime  existing  in  the 
osseous  structure  of  the  bones  of  the  original 
hen.  St.  Bardolphus  entertains  a  contrary  opinion, 
"yf«^w,  aname,  mona  mike^'  says  he,  ^'■Barcelona  bona 
strikcy''  says  he,  "  harum  scarum,  wy  frone  whack  I" 
(I  give  you  the  original  Coptic)  ^^ Harrico  barrico, 
we  won  frac  I" 

Between  these  two  contending  opinions  I  have 
nothing  to  say.     The  dogmas  of  the  Roman  Catho- 


PREFACE.  Vll 

lie  Church,  and  the  folatreries  of  the  philosophers 
of  the  high  school  of  nature,  differ  so  widely,  that 
it  is  impossible  for  common  sense  to  adopt  either 
the  one  or  the  other — and  the  Greek  Church  on 
these  points  has  given  no  decided  opinion  ! 

Such  a  dilemma  presents  itself  when  we  come  to 
consider  the  contents  of  this  volume.  Who  wrote 
it?"  Some  say,  Lord  Brougham;  and  some  attri- 
bute it  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  who  under- 
stood the  Irish  vernacular  to  a  dot.  I  have  a 
shrewd  suspicion  that  Maginn,  a  high  tory,  al- 
though a  good  Roman  Catholic,  and  one  of  the 
prominent  contributors  to  Blackwood^  lent  his 
helping  hand  to  it,  if  he  were  not  the  real  author 
of  it  all  ?  ''  Howandiver,"  to  use  a  phrase  of  the 
author,  let  us  look  into  the  history  of  it. 

Father    Tom    Maguire,   a    prominent    Roman 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

Catholic  priest  In  Kllleshandra,  Ireland,  of  the 
parish  of  Innlsmagrath,  was  one  of  the  most  cele- 
brated men  of  his  time.  He  was  a  splendid  orator, 
trained  at  Maynooth  ;  he  was  a  high  liver — every- 
thing consisting  of  meat  and  drink  on  his  table 
was  of  the  best ;  his  wines  were  excellent,  and  he 
kept  the  best  stable  and  the  finest  greyhounds  in 
Ireland.  He  was  a  bold  fox-hunter;  rode  over 
ditch,  hedge  and  five-barred  gate,  and  when  his 
good  Bishop  interdicted  these  sports  of  the  Irish 
clergy,  says  he,  "  I  will  give  up  my  hunting,"  says 
he;  "but  if  I  must  give  up  my  greyhounds,  there 
Is  a  little  Protestant  parish  church  hard  by  waiting 
for  me."  Whether  this  threat  had  the  desired 
efi^ect  Is  not  known.  It  is  said  that  he  abjured  his 
church  and  died  a  heretic.  How  much  of  this  we 
can  believe  depends  altogether  upon  the  amount 


PREFACE.  IX 

of  our  credulity.  It  may  be  true,  and,  alas !  it  may 
not !  Father  Tom,  as  the  great  Roman  Catho- 
lic controversialist,  was  challenged  to  decide  by 
argument,  the  superiority  of  the  Romish  Church 
over  that  of  the  Established  Church  of  England, 
by  the  Rev.  Richard  T.  P.  Pope,  a  clergyman  of 
the  latter  persuasion.  The  controversy  took  place 
in  the  Rotunda,  at  Dublin,  about  forty  years  ago.* 
Crowds  of  spectators  assembled  to  witness  the 
religious  contest.  Of  course  the  ladies,  who  always 
take  a  great  interest  in  religious  disputations,  were 
present  in  great  numbers.  The  beauty  and  the 
fashion,  the  graceful,  the  wise  and  the  witty  of 
Dublin  assembled  to  hear  these  knotty  points  dis- 
cussed.    The   Rev.  Mr.    Pope,  who   was   a  very 

*  In  1827. 


X  PREFACE. 

learned  scholar,  but  unfortunately  a  timid  man, 
based  his  great  argument  upon  the  Bible  itself. 
So  long  as  he  stood  upon  this  ground  his  argu- 
ments were  unassailable.  But  Father  Tom,  by  one 
of  those  dexterous  twists  so  well  known  in  polem- 
ics, managed  to  get  Pope  to  shift  his  ground  from 
the  Bible  to  the  Fathers.  The  dispute,  which  had 
occupied  several  days,  up  to  this  time  had  been  in 
favor  of  Pope,  but  when  Father  Maguire  got 
him  entangled  in  the  Fathers,  and  hurled  at  him 
quotation  after  quotation  from  St.  Austin,  St. 
Chrysostom,  and  others — poor  Pope,  who  knew 
very  little  of  the  Fathers,  became  so  dumb-found- 
erd  that  he  was  incapable  of  making  a  reply,  and 
the  victory  rested  with  Father  Tom.  But  after  the 
controversy  was  over  the  Rev.  Mr.  Pope  took  up 
the  Fathers,  and  to  his  surprise  could  not  find  any 


PREFACE.  XI 

of  the  quotations  that  Father  'Tom  had  cited  !  Like  a 
true  scholar,  he  published  a  book,  exposing  the  falla- 
cies of  his  antagonist.  But  the  time  had  gone  by. 
Few  people  cared  to  read  it,  fewer  still  had  patience 
to  wade  through  laborious  denials  of  the  smart 
sayings  of  Father  Tom  in  the  Rotunda ;  the 
sparkle  was  off — the  champagne  had  ceased  to 
effervesce — and  Mr.  Pope  never  recovered  the 
ground  he  had  lost. 

Some  years  elapsed,  and  the  Rev.  Tresham  D. 
Gregg,  of  the  Established  Church,  took  up  the 
polemical  cudgels  to  demolish  the  redoubtable 
champion  of  the  Romish  Church.  He  was  just 
such  a  man  as  his  antagonist,  vehement,  loud 
voiced — of  the  ad  captandum^  knock-down-and- 
drag-out  school.  Although  not  acknowledged  by 
the  Church  of  England  as  the  Goliath  of  its  faith, 


Xll  PREFACE. 

yet  there  is  no  doubt  of  the  secret  exultation  of  its 
clergy  at  his  success.  The  challenge  was  accepted, 
and  for  a  fortnight  the  Rotunda  of  Dublin  rang 
with  the  verbal  blows  of  these  doughty  combat- 
ants. Victory  poised  her  scales,  the  contest  hung 
in  the  balance.  At  last,  one  afternoon,  after  the 
battle  of  the  day  was  over,  Gregg  raised  his  mighty 
arm  high  in  the  air,  and  said  "  that  on  the  next 
day,  the  secrets  of  the  confessional  would  be  the 
subject  of  the  discourse,  and  warned  the  ladies, 
**  that  no  modest  woman  would  appear,  or  could 
appear,  while  he  revealed  the  secrets  of  that  power- 
ful instrument  of  the  Romish  Church." 

The  consequences  may  be  imagined.  The  hall 
was  packed  to  overflowing  by  the  gentler  sex. 
Ladies  of  the  Catholic  persuasion,  conscious  of 
the  inability  of  the  orator  to  make  his  words  good. 


PREFACE.  Xlll 

ilocked  to  hear  his  discomfiture.  Those  of  the 
other  persuasion  were  induced  to  come  from  a 
laudable  curiosity.  The  argument,  if  argument  it 
might  be  called,  consisted  on  Gregg's  part  of  that 
style  which  Poe  has  properly  denominated  "the 
awkward  left  arm  of  satire — invective."  He  had 
caught  Father  Tom  at  single  stick  and  paid  him 
off  in  his  own  way.  There  was  of  course  no  little 
allusion  to  indelicate  matters.  After  the  argument 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Gregg  had  to  be  escorted  to  his 
lodgings  by  a  troop  of  dragoons.  But  at  the  close 
of  the  debate  he  announced,  that  on  the  morrow 
the  subject  would  be  continued.  But  on  the  fol- 
lowing day  Father  Tom  did  not  appear.  The 
victorious  Gregg  was  cock  of  the  walk  ;  the  judg- 
ment went  by  default. 

Whether  any  one  among  the  speakers  or  listen- 


XIV  PREFACE. 

ers  became  better  Christians  after  the  controversy, 
is  a  question.  It  is  doubtful  whether  Gregg  or 
Father  Tom  made  or  lost  a  single  convert  to 
either  faith. 

"Father  Tom  and  the  Pope"  first  saw  the 
light  in  Blackwoody  ten  years  after  these  controver- 
sies. It  may  have  been  written  by  Maginn, 
who  was  a  good  Catholic,  but  it  may  truly  be 
said  of  him,  that  although  he  "  loved  the  Church 
much,  he  loved  fun  more."  As  a  work  of  mere 
wit  it  must  take  its  place  with  some  of  the 
brightest  efforts  of  Rabelais,  of  Montaigne,  or  of 
Pascal. 

The  ingenuity  with  which  the  conversation  be- 
tween the  Pope  and  Father  Tom  is  developed  to 
the  reader,  forms  no  little  part  of  its  felicitousness. 
A  hedge  priest,  one   Michael  Heffernan,  of  the 


PREFACE.  XV 

National  School  of  Ballymacktaggart,  is  the  inter- 
locutor. This  keeper  of  a  ragged  school,  under 
the  shadow  of  an  Irish  hedge,  is  the  exponent 
of  theological  controversies  that  have  shaken  the 
world  !  Happy  satire  !  which  like  summer  light- 
ning, clears  up  the  atmosphere,  and  makes  even 
the  skies  bright,  blue,  beautiful  and  buoyant.  To 
us !  poor  mortals !  to  whom  a  touch  of  nature 
shakes  the  laughter  out  of  us,  or  brings  the 
tears  into  our  eyes,  such  books  are  the  treasures 
of  our  language. 

If  out  of  the  sorrow  and  misery  of  this  world, 
wit  has  managed  to  alleviate  one  shade  of 
human  suffering ;  if  it  has  lifted  up  its  hand 
against  tyranny ;  if  it  has  sometimes  by  the  pen 
of  Cervantes  lessened  the  ridiculous  power  of  a 
so-called   chivalry ;    or   in    the    satires    of   Swift, 


XVI 


PREFACE 


destroyed  the  prestige  of  hereditary  birth ;  if  it 
has  done  any  good  in  this  world,  let  so  much 
good  be  accounted  to  it. 


CHAPTER  I. 

HOW     FATHER    TOM    WENT    TO    TAKE     POT-LUCK    AT 
THE   VATICAN. 

When  his  Riv'rence  was  in  Room,  ov  coorse 
the  Pope  axed  him  to  take  pot  look  wid  him. 
More  be  token,  it  was  on  a  Friday;  but,  for  all 
that,  there  was  plenty  of  mate ;  for  the  Pope  gev 
himself  an  absolution  from  the  fast  on  account  ov 
the  great  company  that  was  in  it — at  laste  so  I'm 
tould.  Howandiver,  there's  no  fast  on  the  dhrink, 
anyhow — glory  be  to  God  ! — and  so,  as  they  wor 
sitting,  afther  dinner,  taking  their  sup  together, 
says  the  Pope,  says  he,  "  Thomaus " — for  the 
Pope,  you  know,  spakes  that  away,  all  as  one  as 
one  ov  uz — "  Thomaus  a  lanna^^  says  he,  "  I'm 
tould  you  welt  them  English  heretics  out  ov  the 
face." 

"  You  may  say  that,"  says  his  Riv'rence  to  him 

2 


lO  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

again.  "  Be  my  sowl,"  says  he,  "  if  I  put  your 
Holiness  undher  the  table,  you  won't  be  the  first 
Pope  I  floored." 

Well,  his  Holiness  laughed  like  to  split;  for, 
you  know.  Pope  was  the  great  Prodesan  that 
Father  Tom  put  down  upon  Purgathory ;  and 
ov  coorse  they  knew  all  the  ins  and  outs  ov  the 
conthravarsy  at  Room.  "  Faix,  Thomaus,"  says 
he,  smiling  across  the  table  at  him  mighty  agree- 
able— *'  it's  no  lie  what  they  tell  me,  that  yourself 
is  the  pleasant  man  over  the  dhrop  ov  good 
liquor." 

"  Would  you  like  to  thry  ?"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"  Sure,  and  amn't  I  thrying  all  I  can  ?"  says 
the  Pope.  "  Sorra  betther  bottle  ov  wine's  be- 
tuxt  this  and  Salamancha,  nor's  there  fornenst 
you  on  the  table ;  its  raal  Lachrymalchrystal, 
every  spudh  ov  it." 

"  It's  mortial  could,"  says  Father  Tom. 

"  W^ell,  man  alive,"  says  the  Pope,  "  sure  and 
here's  the  best  ov  good  claret  in  the  cut  de- 
canther." 

"Not  maning  to  make  little  ov  the  claret,  your 
Holiness,"  says  his  Riv'rence,   "  I    would  prefir 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  II 

some  hot  wather  and  sugar,  wid  a  glass  of  spirits 
through  it,  if  convanient." 

"  Hand  me  over  the  bottle  ov  brandy,"  says 
the  Pope  to  his  head  butler,  "  and  fetch  up  the 
materi'ls,"  says  he. 

"Ah,  then,  your  Holiness,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
mighty  eager,  "  maybe  you'd  have  a  dhrop  ov  the 
native  in  your  cellar?  Sure  it's  all  one  throuble," 
says  he,  "  and,  troth,  I  dunna  how  it  is,  but 
brandy  always  plays  the  puck  wid  my  inthrails." 

"'Pon  my  conscience,  then,"  says  the  Pope, 
"  it's  very  sorry  I  am,  Misther  Maguire,"  says 
he,  "  that  it  isn't  in  my  power  to  plase  you ;  for 
I'm  sure  and  certaint  that  there's  not  as  much 
whisky  in  Room  this  blessed  minit  as  'ud  blind 
the  eye  ov  a  midge." 

"  Well,  in  troth,  your  Holiness,"  says  Father 
Tom,  "  I  knewn  there  was  no  use  in  axing ; 
only,"  says  he,  "  I  didn't  know  how  else  to  ex- 
queeze  the  liberty  I  tuck,"  says  he,  "  ov  bringing 
a  small  taste,"  says  he,  "  ov  the  raal  stuff,"  says 
he,  hauling  out  an  imperi'l  quart  bottle  out  ov  his 
coat-pocket ;  "  that  never  seen  the  face  ov  a 
gauger,"   says   he,    setting  it   down   on    the   table 


12  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

fornenst  the  Pope :  "  and  if  you'll  jist  thry  the 
full  ov  a  thimble  ov  it,  and  if  it  doesn't  rise  the 
cockles  ov  your  Holiness's  heart,  why,  then,  my 
name,"  says  he,  "isn't  Tom  Maguire  !"  and  wid 
that  he  outs  wid  the  cork. 

Well,  the  Pope  at  first  was  going  to  get  vexed 
at  Father  Tom  for  fetching  dhrink  thataway  in 
his  pocket,  as  if  there  wasn't  lashins  in  the  house: 
so  says  he,  "  Misther  Maguire,"  says  he,  "  I'd 
have  you  to  comprehind  the  differ  betuxt  an 
invitation  to  dinner  from  the  succissor  ov  Saint 
Pether,  and  from  a  common  mayur  or  a  Prodesan 
squireen  that  maybe  hasn't  liquor  enough  in  his 
cupboard  to  wet  more  nor  his  own  heretical 
whistle.  That  may  be  the  way  wid  them  that 
you  visit  in  Leithrim,"  says  he,  "  and  in  Ros- 
common ;  and  I'd  let  you  know  the  differ  in  the 
prisint  case,"  says  he,  "  only  that  you're  a  cham- 
pion of  the  Church  and  entitled  to  laniency.  So," 
says  he,  "  as  the  liquor's  come,  let  it  stay.  And 
in  troth  Tm  curis  myself,"  says  he,  getting  mighty 
soft  when  he  found  the  delightful  smell  ov  the 
putteen,  "  in  invistigating  the  composition  ov  dis- 
tilled   liquors ;     it's    a  branch  of  natural    philos- 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  1 3 

ophy,"  says  he,  taking  up  the  bottle  and  putting 
it  to  his  blessed  nose.  Ah  !  my  dear,  the  very 
first  sniifF  he  got  ov  it,  he  cried  out,  the  dear 
man :  "  Blessed  Vargin,  but  it  has  the  divine 
smell  !"  and  crossed  himself  and  the  bottle  half-a- 
dozen  times  running. 

"  Well,  sure  enough,  it's  the  blessed  liquor 
now,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "and  so  there  can  be  no 
harm  any  way  in  mixing  a  dandy  ov  punch  ;  and," 
says  he,  stirring  up  the  materi'ls  with  his  goolden 
muddler — for  everything  at  the  Pope's  table,  to 
the  very  schrew  for  drawing  the  corks,  was  ov 
vergin  goold — "  if  I  might  make  bould,"  says  he, 
"to  spake  on  so  deep  a  subjic  afore  your  Holi- 
ness, I  think  it  'ud  considherably  facilitate  the 
invistigation  ov  its  chemisthry  and  phwarmaceutics, 
if  you'd  jist  thry  the  laste  sup  in  life  ov  it  in- 
wardly." 

"Well,  then,  suppose  I  do  make  the  same 
expiriment,"  says  the  Pope,  in  a  much  more  con- 
discinding  way  nor  you'd  have  expected — and 
wid  that  he  mixes  himself  a  real  stiff  facer. 

"  Now,  your  Holiness,"  says  Father  Tom, 
"  this  bein'  the  first  time  you  ever  dispinsed  them 


14  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

chymicals,"  says  he,  "  I'll  just  make  bould  to  lay 
down  one  rule  of  orthography,"  says  he,  "  for 
conwhounding  them,  secundem  mortem^ 

"  What's  that  ?"  says  the  Pope. 

"  Put  in  the  sperits  first,"  says  his  Riv'rence  ; 
"and  then  put  in  the  sugar;  and  remember, 
every  dhrop  ov  wather  you  put  in  after  that 
spoils  the  punch." 

"Glory  be  to  God  !"  says  the  Pope,  not  mind- 
ing a  word  Father  Tom  was  saying.  "  Glory  be 
to  God  !"  says  he,  smacking  his  lips.  "  I  never 
knewn  what  dhrink  was  afore,"  says  he.  "It 
bates  the  Lachrymalchrystal  out  of  the  face!" 
says  he — "it's  Necthar  itself,  it  is,  so  it  is  !"  says 
he,  wiping  his  epistolical  mouth  wid  the  cufF  ov 
his  coat. 

" 'Pon  my  secret  honor,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"  I'm  raally  glad  to  see  your  Holiness  set  so 
much  to  your  satisfaction  ;  especially,"  says  he, 
"  as,  for  fear  ov  accidents,  I  tuck  the  liberty  ov 
fetching  the  fellow  ov  that  small  vesshel,"  says 
he,  "  in  my  other  coat  pocket.  So  divil  a  fear 
ov  our  running  dhry  till  the  but-end  ov  the  even- 
ing, anyhow,"  says  he. 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  1 5 

"  Dhraw  your  stool  in  to  the  fire,  Misther 
Maguire,"  says  the  Pope,  "  for  faix,"  says  he, 
**  I'm  bent  on  analysing  the  metaphwysics  ov  this 
phinomenon.  Come,  man  alive,  clear  off,"  says 
he,  "you're  not  dhrinking  at  all." 

"Is  it  dhrink?"  says  his  Riv'rence;  "by  Gorra, 
your  Holiness,"  says  he,  "  I'd  dhrink  wid  you 
till  the  cows  'ud  be  coming  home  in  the  morning." 

So  wid  that  they  tackled  to,  to  the  second  fugee 
a  piece,  and  fell  into  larned  discourse.  But  it's 
time  for  me  now  to  be  off  to  the  lecthir  at  the 
Boord.  Oh  my  sorra  light  upon  ye,  Docther 
Whately,  wid  your  pilitical  econimy  and  your 
hydherastatics  !  What  the  dioul  use  has  a  poor 
hedge-master  like  me  wid  such  deep  larning  as  is 
only  fit  for  the  likes  of  them  two  that  I  left  over 
their  second  tumbler  ?  Howandiver,  wishing  I 
was  like  them,  in  regard  ov  the  sup  of  dhrink, 
anyhow,  I  must  break  off  my  norration  for  the 
prisint;  but  when  I  see  you  again,  I'll  tell  you 
how  Father  Tom  made  a  hare  ov  the  Pope  that 
evening,  both  in  theology  and  the  cube  root. 


CHAPTER  II. 

HOW  FATHER  TOM  SACKED  HIS  HOLINESS  IN 
THEOLOGY  AND  LOGIC. 

W  ELL,  the  lecthir's  over,  and  I'm  kilt  out  and 
out.  My  bitther  curse  upon  the  man  that  in- 
vlnted  the  same  Boord !  I  thought  ons't  I'd 
fadomed  the  say  ov  throuble  ;  and  that  was  when 
I  got  through  fractions  at  Ould  Mat  Kavanagh's 
school,  in  Firdramore — God  be  good  to  poor 
Mat's  sowl,  though  he  did  deny  the  cause  the  day 
he  suffered  !  but  it's  fluxions  itself  we're  set  to 
bottom  now,  sink  or  shwim  !  May  I  never  die 
if  my  head  isn't  as  throughother  as  anything  wid 
their  ordinals  and  cardinals — and,  begob,  its  all 
nothing  to  the  econimy  lecthir  that  I  have  got  to 
go  to  at  two  o'clock.  Howandiver,  I  mustn't 
forget  that  we  left  his  Riv'rence  and  his  Holiness 
sitting  fornenst  one  another  in  the  parlor  ov  the 
Vatican,  jist  afther  mixing  their  second  tumbler. 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  1 7 

When  they  had  got  well  down  into  the  same, 
they  fell,  as  I  was  telling  you,  into  larned  dis- 
course. For,  you  see,  the  Pope  was  curious  to 
find  out  whether  Father  Tom  was  the  great  theo- 
loginall  that  people  said;  and  says  he,  "  Misther 
Maguire,"  says  he,  "what  answer  do  you  make  to 
the  heretics  when  they  quote  them  passidges  agin 
thransubstantiation  out  ov  the  Fathers  ?"  says  he. 

*' Why,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "as  there  should 
be  no  sich  passidges  I  make  myself  mighty  aisy 
about  them  ;  but  if  you  want  to  know  how  I  dis- 
pose ov  them,"  says  he,  "just  repate  one  ov 
them,"  says  he,  "and  I'll  show  you  how  to 
catapomphericate  it  in  two  shakes." 

"  Why,  then,"  says  the  Pope,  "  myself  disre- 
mimbers  the  particlar  passidges  they  alledge  out 
of  them  old  felleys,"  says  he,  "  though  sure 
enough  they're  more  numerous  nor  edifying — so 
we'll  jist  suppose  that  a  heretic  was  to  find  sich  a 
saying  as  this  in  Austin,  '  Every  sinsible  man 
knows  that  thransubstantiation  is  a  lie  ' — or  this 
out  of  Tertullian  or  Plutarch,  '  the  Bishop  ov 
Room  is  a  common  imposther,'  now  tell  me, 
could  you  answer  him  ?" 


I  8  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

"As  easy  as  kiss,"  says  his  Riv'rence.  "In 
the  first,  we're  to  understand  that  the  exprission, 
*  Every  sinsible  man,'  signifies  simply,  '  Every 
man  that  judges  by  his  nath'ral  sinses;'  and  we 
all  know  that  nobody  folleying  them  seven  delud- 
hers  could  ever  find  out  the  mysthery  that's  in  it, 
if  somebody  didn't  come  in  to  his  assistance  wid 
an  eighth  sinse,  which  is  the  only  sinse  to  be  de- 
pended on,  being  the  sinse  ov  the  Church.  So 
that,  regarding  the  first  quotation  which  your 
Holiness  has  supposed,  it  makes  clane  for  us,  and 
tee-totally  agin  the  heretics." 

"  That's  the  explanation  sure  enough,"  says 
his  Holiness  ;  "  and  now  what  div  you  say  to  my 
being  a  common  imposther  ?" 

"  Faix,  I  think,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "wid  all 
submission  to  the  better  judgment  ov  the  learned 
father  that  your  Holiness  has  quoted,  he'd  have 
been  a  thrifle  nearer  the  truth,  if  he  had  said  that 
the  Bishop  ov  Room  is  the  grand  imposther  and 
top-sawyer  in  that  line  over  us  all." 

"  What  do  you  mane  ?"  says  the  Pope,  getting 
quite  red  in  the  face. 

"  What  would  I  mane,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  as 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  1 9 

composed  as  a  docther  ov  physic,  '*  but  that  your 
Holiness  is  at  the  head  ov  all  them — troth  I  had 
a'most  forgot  I  wasn't  a  bishop  myself,"  says  he, 
(the  deludher  was  going  to  say,  as  the  head  ov  all 
us) — "that  has  the  gift  ov  laying  on  hands.  For 
sure,"  says  he,  '*  imposther  and  imposithir  is  all 
one,  so  you're  only  to  undherstand  manuum^  and 
the  job  is  done.  Awouich  !"  says  he,  "if  any 
heretic  'ud  go  for  to  cast  up  sich  a  passidge  as  that 
agin  me,  I'd  soon  give  him  a  lesson  in  the  p'lite 
art  ov  cutting  a  stick  to  welt  his  own  back  wid." 

"'Pon  my  epostolical  word,"  says  the  Pope, 
"  you've  cleared  up  them  two  pints  in  a  most 
satisfactory  manner." 

"You  see,"  says  his  Riv'rence — by  this  time 
they  wor  mixing  their  third  tumbler--"  the  writ- 
ings ov  them  Fathers  is  to  be  thrated  wid  great 
veneration ;  and  it  'ud  be  the  height  of  presump- 
tion in  any  one  to  sit  down  to  interpret  them 
widout  providing  himself  wid  a  genteel  assortment 
ov  the  best  figures  ov  rhetoric,  sich  as  mettonymy, 
hyperbol,  cattychraysis,  prolipsis,  mettylipsis,  su- 
perbaton,  pollysyndreton,  hustheronprotheron, 
prosodypeia  and  the  like,  in  ordher  that  he  may 


20  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

never  be  at  a  loss  for  shuitable  sintiments  when 
he  comes  to  their  high-flown  passidges.  For 
unless  we  thrate  them  Fathers  liberally  to  a  hand- 
some allowance  ov  thropes  and  figures,  they'd  set 
up  heresy  at  ons't,  so  they  would." 

"  It's  thrue  for  you,"  says  the  Pope;  "the 
figures  ov  spache  is  the  pillars  ov  the  Church." 

"  Bedad,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "  I  dunna  what 
we'd  do  widout  them  at  all." 

"  Which  one  do  you  prefir  ?"  says  the  Pope  ; 
"  that  is,"  says  he,  "  which  figure  ov  spache  do 
you  find  most  usefullest  when  you're  hard  set  ?" 

"  Metaphour's  very  good,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"andso's  mettonymy — and  I've  known  prosodypeia 
stand  to  me  at  a  pinch  mighty  well — but  for  a  con- 
stancy, superbaton's  the  figure  for  my  money. 
Divil  be  in  me,"  says  he,  "  but  I'd  prove  black 
white  as  fast  as  a  horse  'ud  throt  wid  only  a  good 
stock  ov  superbaton." 

"  Faix,"  says  the  Pope,  wid  a  sly  look,  "you'd 
need  to  have  it  backed,  I  judge,  wid  a  small  taste 
ov  assurance." 

"  Well  now,  jist  for  that  word,"  says  his  Riv'- 
rence, "  I'll  prove  it  widout  aither  one  or  other. 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  21 

Black,"  says  he,  *'  is  one  thing  and  white  is  an- 
other thing.  You  don't  conthravene  that  ?  But 
every  thing  is  aither  one  thing  or  another  thing ; 
I  defy  the  apostle  Paul  to  get  over  that  dilemma. 
Well !  If  any  thing  be  one  thing,  well  and  good; 
but  if  it  be  another  thing,  then  it's  plain  it  isn't 
both  things,  and  so  can't  be  two  things — nobody 
can  deny  that.  But  what  can't  be  two  things 
must  be  one  thing — Ergo,  whether  it's  one  thing 
or  another  thing  it's  all  one.  But  black  is  one 
thing  and  white  is  another  thing — Ergo,  black 
and  white  is  all  one.     ^od  erat  demonsthrandiim'' 

"Stop  a  bit,"  says  the  Pope,  "I  can't  althe- 
gither  give  in  to  your  second  minor — no — your 
second  major,"  says  he,  and  he  stopped.  "  Faix, 
then,"  says  he,  getting  confused,  '*I  don't  rightly 
remimber  where  it  was  exactly  that  I  thought  I 
seen  the  flaw  in  your  premises.  Howsomdiver," 
says  he,  "I  don't  deny  that  it's  a  good  conclusion, 
and  one  that  'ud  be  ov  materi'l  service  to  the 
Church  if  it  was  dhrawn  wid  a  little  more  distinct- 
iveness." 

"  I'll  make  it  as  plain  as  the  nose  on  your 
Holiness's   face,   by  superbaton,"  says   his    Riv'- 


22  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

rence.  **  My  adversary  says  black  is  not  another 
color,  that  is,  white  !  Now,  that's  jist  a  parallel 
passidge  wid  the  one  out  ov  Tartullian  that  me 
and  Hayes  smashed  the  heretics  on  in  Clarendon 
sthreet,  '  This  is  my  body — that  is,  the  figure  ov 
my  body.'  That's  a  superbaton,  and  we  showed 
that  it  oughtn't  to  be  read  that  way  at  all,  but 
this  way,  *  This  figure  ov  my  body  is  my  body.' 
Jist  so  wid  my  adversary's  proposition,  it  mustn't 
be  undherstood  the  way  it  reads,  by  no  manner  ov 
manes  ;  but  it's  to  be  taken  this  way — *  Black — 
that  is,  white,  is  not  another  color  ' — green,  if  you 
like,  or  orange,  by  dad,  for  anything  I  care,  for 
my  case  is  proved.  *  Black,'  that  is,  ^  white,'  lave 
out  the  *  that,'  by  sinnalayphy,  and  you  have  the 
orthodox  conclusion,  '  Black  is  white,'  or  by  con- 
varsion,  *  White  is  black.'" 

"  It's  as  clear  as  mud,"  says  the  Pope. 

"  Begad,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "  I'm  in  great 
humor  for  disputin'  to-night.  I  wisht  your  Holi- 
ness was  a  heretic  jist  for  two  minutes,"  says  he, 
"till  you'd  see  the  flaking  I'd  give  you  !" 

"Well,  then,  for  the  fun  o'  the  thing,  suppose 
me   my  namesake,  if  you  like,"  says   the  Pope, 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  2^ 

laughing,  "  though,  by  Jayminy,"  says  he,  "  he's 
not  one  that  I  take  much  pride  out  ov." 

"Very  good — divil  a  betther  joke  ever  I  had," 
says  his  Riv'rence.  "Come,  then,  Misther  Pope," 
says  he,  "  hould  up  that  purty  face  ov  yours,  and 
answer  me  this  question.  Which  'ud  be  the  big- 
gest lie,  if  I  said  I  seen  a  turkey-cock  lying  on 
the  broad  ov  his  back,  and  picking  the  stars  out 
ov  the  sky,  or  if  I  was  to  say  that  I  seen  a  gand- 
her  in  the  same  interestin'  posture,  raycreating 
himself  wid  similar  asthronomical  expiriments  ? 
Answer  me  that,  you  ould  swaddler  ?"  says  he. 

"  How  durst  you  call  me  a  swaddler,  sir,"  says 
the  Pope,  forgetting,  the  dear  man,  the  part  that 
he  was  acting. 

"  Don't  think  for  to  bully  me  !"  says  his  Riv'- 
rence, "  I  always  daar  to  spake  the  truth,  and  it's 
well  known  that  you're  nothing  but  a  swaddling 
ould  sinner  of  a  saint,"  says  he,  never  letting  on 
to  persave  that  his  Holiness  had  forgot  what  they 
were  agreed  on. 

"  By  all  that's  good,"  says  the  Pope,  "  I  often 
hard  ov  the  imperance  ov  you  Irish  afore,"  says 
he,  "  but  I   never  expected  to  be  called  a  saint  in 


24  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

my  own  house  either  by  Irishman  or  Hottentot. 
I'll  till  you  what,  Misther  Maguire,"  says  he,  "  if 
you  can't  keep  a  civil  tongue  in  your  head,  you 
had  betther  be  walking  off  wid  yourself;  for  I  beg 
lave  to  give  you  to  undherstand,  that  it  won't  be 
for  the  good  ov  your  health  if  you  call  me  by  sich 
an  outprobrious  epithet  again,"  says  he. 

"  Oh,  indeed  !  then  things  is  come  to  a  purty 
pass,"  says  his  Riv'rence  (the  dear  funny  soul 
that  he  ever  was  !)  "when  the  likes  of  you  com- 
pares one  of  the  Maguires  ov  Tempo  wid  a  wild 
Ingine  !  Why,  man  alive,  the  Maguires  was 
kings  ov  Fermanagh  three  thousand  years  afore 
your  grandfather,  that  was  the  first  of  your  breed 
that  ever  wore  shoes  and  stockings"  (I'm  bound  to 
say,  in  justice  to  the  poor  Prodesan,  that  this  was 
all  spoken  by  his  Riv'rence  by  way  ov  a  figure  ov 
spache),  "  was  sint  his  Majesty's  arrand  to  culti- 
vate the  friendship  of  Prince  Lee  Boo  in  Botteney 
Bay  !  Oh  Bryan,  dear,"  says  he,  letting  on  to 
cry,  "if  you  were  alive  to  hear  a  boddagh  Sassenagh 
like  this  casting  up  his  counthry  to  one  ov  the 
name  ov  Maguire  !" 

"In  the  name  ov  God,"  says  the  Pope,  very 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  25 

solemniously,  "  what  is  the  meaning  ov  all  this  at 
all  at  all  ?"  says  he. 

"  Sure,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  whispering  to 
him  across  the  table,  "sure  you  know  we're  act- 
ing a  conthravarsy,  and  you  tuck  the  part  of  the 
Prodesan  champion.  You  wouldn't  be  angry  wid 
me,  I'm  sure,  for  sarving  out  the  heretic  to  the 
best  ov  my  ability." 

"  Oh  begad,  I  had  forgot,"  says  the  Pope,  the 
good-natured  ould  crethur ;  "  sure  enough  you 
were  only  taking  your  part,  as  a  good  Milesian 
Catholic  ought,  agin  the  heretic  Sassenagh.  Well," 
says  he,  "fire  away  now,  and  I'll  put  up  wid  as 
many  conthrovarsial  compliments  as  you  plase  to 
pay  me." 

"  Well,  then,  answer  me  my  question,  you 
sanctimonious  ould  dandy,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"  In  troth,  then,"  says  the  Pope,  "  I  dunna 
which  'ud  be  the  biggest  lie:  to  my  mind,"  says 
he,  "the  one  appears  to  be  about  as  big  a  bounce 
as  the  other." 

"  Why,  then,  you  poor  simpleton,"  says  his 
Riv'rence,  "  don't  you  persave  that,  forbye  the 
advantage  the  gandher  'ud  have  in  the  length  ov 
4 


26  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

his  neck,  it  'ud  be  next  to  onpossible  for  the 
turkey-cock  lying  thataway  to  see  what  he  was 
about,  by  rason  ov  his  djollars  and  other  accouth- 
rements  hanging  back  over  his  eyes  ?  The  one 
about  as  big  a  bounce  as  the  other  !  Oh,  you 
misforthunate  crethur  !  if  you  had  ever  larned 
your  A  B  C  in  theology,  you'd  have  known  that 
there's  a  differ  betuxt  them  two  lies  so  great,  that, 
begad,  I  wouldn't  wondher  if  it  'ud  make  a  bal- 
ance ov  five  years  in  purgathory  to  the  sowl  that 
ud  be  in  it.  Ay,  and  if  it  wasn't  that  the  Church 
is  too  liberal  entirely,  so  she  is,  it  'ud  cost  his 
heirs  and  succissors  betther  nor  ten  pounds  to 
have  him  out  as  soon  as  the  other.  Get  along, 
man,  and  take  half-a-year  at  dogmatical  theology : 
go  and  read  your  Dens,  you  poor  dunce,  you  !" 

"  Raaly,"  says  the  Pope,  "you're  making  the 
heretic's  shoes  too  hot  to  hould  me.  I  wondher 
how  the  Prodesans  can  stand  afore  you  at  all." 

"  Don't  think  to  delude  me,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"  don't  think  to  back  out  ov  your  challenge  now," 
says  he,  "  but  come  to  the  scratch  like  a  man,  if 
you  are  a  man,  and  answer  me  my  question. 
What's  the  rason,  now,  that  Julius  Caesar  and  the 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE,  27 

Vargin  Mary  was  born  upon  the  one  day  ? — 
answer  me  that,  if  you  wouldn't  be  hissed  off  the 
platform  !" 

Well,  my  dear,  the  Pope  couldn't  answer  it, 
and  he  had  to  acknowledge  himself  sacked.  Then 
he  axed  his  Riv'rence  to  tell  him  the  rason  him- 
self; and  Father  Tom  communicated  it  to  him  in 
Latin.  But  as  that  is  a  very  deep  question,  I 
never  hard  what  the  answer  was,  except  that  Tm 
tould  it  was  so  mysterious,  it  made  the  Pope's 
hair  stand  on  end. 

But  there's  two  o'clock,  and  I'll  be  late  for  the 
lecthir. 


CHAPTER  III. 


HOW  FATHER  TOM    MADE   A   HARE  OF   HIS 
HOLINESS    IN   LATIN. 


o 


H,  Dochter  Whately,  Docther  Whately,  I'm 
sure  I'll  never  die  another  death  if  I  don't  die 
aither  of  consumption  or  production!  I  ever  and 
always  thought  that  asthronomy  was  the  hardest 
science  that  was  till  now — and  it's  no  lie  I'm 
telling  you,  the  same  asthronomy  is  a  tough 
enough  morsel  to  break  a  man's  fast  upon — and 
geolidgy  is  middling  and  hard  too — and  hydher- 
astatics  is  no  joke;  but  ov  all  the  books  ov 
science  that  ever  was  opened  and  shut,  that  book 
upon  Pilitical  Econimy  lifts  the  pins !  Well, 
well,  if  they  wait  till  they  persuade  me  that  taking 
a  man's  rints  out  ov  the  counthry,  and  spinding 
them  in  forrain  parts  isn't  doing  us  out  ov  the 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  2^ 

same,  they'll  wait  a  long  time  in  troth.  But 
you're  waiting,  I  see,  to  hear  how  his  Riv'rence 
and  his  Holiness  got  on  after  finishing  the  dis- 
putation I  was  telling  you  ov.  Well,  you  see, 
my  dear,  when  the  Pope  found  he  couldn't  hould  a 
candle  to  Father  Tom  in  theology  and  logic,  he 
thought  he'd  take  the  shine  out  ov  him  in  Latin 
anyhow;  so  says  he,  "Misther  Magu ire,"  says  he, 
"  I  quite  agree  wid  you  that  it's  not  lucky  for  us 
to  be  spaking  on  them  deep  subjects  in  sich  lan- 
gidges  as  the  evil  spirits  is  acquainted  wid ;  and," 
says  he,  "  I  think  it  'ud  be  no  harm  for  us  to 
spake  from  this  out  in  Latin,"  says  he,  "  for  fraid 
the  devil  'ud  undherstand  what  we  are  saying." 

"  Not  a  hair  I  care,"  says  Father  Tom, 
*' whether  he  undherstands  what  we're  saying  or 
not,  so  long  as  we  keep  off  that  last  pint  we  wor 
discussing,  and  one  or  two  others.  List'ners 
never  heard  good  ov  themselves,"  says  he  ;  "  and 
if  Belzhebub  takes  anything  amiss  that  aither  you 
or  me  says  in  regard  ov  himself  or  his  faction,  let 
him  stand  forrid  like  a  man,  and,  never  fear,  I'll 
give  him  his  answer.  Howandiver,  if  it's  for  a 
taste  ov  classic  conversation   you  are,  just  to  put 


30  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

US  in  mind  ov  ould  Cordarius,"  says  he,  "here's 
at  you ;"  and  wid  that  he  lets  fly  at  his  Holiness 
wid  his  health  in  Latin. 

"  Vesthrae  Sanctitatis  salutem  volo  !"  says  he. 

"  Vesthrae  Revirintiae  salubritati  bibo !"  says 
the  Pope  to  him  again  (faith,  it's  no  joke,  I 
tell  you,  to  remimber  sich  a  power  ov  larning). 
"  Here's  to  you  wid  the  same,"  says  the  Pope,  in 
the  raal  Ciceronian.  "  Nunc  poculum  alterhum 
imple,"  says  he. 

"  Cum  omni  jucunditate  in  vita,"  says  his  Riv'- 
rence.  "  Cum  summa  concupiscintia  et  animosi- 
tate,"  says  he ;  as  much  as  to  say :  "  Wid  all  the 
veins  ov  my  heart,  I'll  do  that  same ;"  and  so,  wid 
that,  they  mixed  their  fourth  gun  a  piece. 

"Aqua  vitaevesthra  sane  est  liquor  admirabilis," 
says  the  Pope. 

"  Verum  est  pro  te — it's  thrue  for  you,"  says  his 
Riv'rence,  forgetting  the  idyim  ov  the  Latin  phraw- 
seology,  in  a  manner. 

"  Prava  est  tua  Latinitas,  domine,"  says  the 
Pope,  finding  fault  like  wid  his  etymology. 

"  Parva  culpa  mihi,"  "small  blame  to  me,  that 
is,"  says  his  Riv'rence  ;   "  nam  multum  laboro  in 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  3 1 

partibus  interiorlbus,"  says  he — the  dear  man  ! 
that  nev^er  was  at  a  loss  for  an  excuse  ! 

"  Quid  tibi  incommodi  ?"  says  the  Pope,  axing 
him  what  ailed  him. 

"  Habesne  id  quod  Anglice  vocamus,  a  looking- 
glass,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"  Immo,  habeo  speculum  splendidissimum  sub- 
ther  operculum  pyxidis  hujus  starnutatoriae,"  says 
the  Pope,  pulling  out  a  beautiful  goold  snufF-box, 
wid  a  looking-glass  in  under  the  lid ;  "  Subther 
operculum  pyxidis  hujus  starnutatorii — no — star- 
nutatoriae— quam  dono  accepi  ab  Archi-duce  Aus- 
thriaco  siptuagisima  praetherita,"  says  he  ;  as  much 
as  to  say  that  he  got  the  box  in  a  prisint  from  the 
Queen  of  Spain  last  Lint,  if  I  rightly  remimber. 

Well,  Father  Tom  laughed  like  to  burst.  At 
last  says  he,  "  Pather  Sancte,"  says  he,  '*sub 
errore  jaces.  '  Looking-glass'  apud  nos  habet  sig- 
nificationem  quamdam  peculiarem  ex  tempore  diei 
dependentem" — there  was  a  sthring  ov  accusatives 
for  yez  ! — '^  nam  mane  speculum  sonat,"  says  he, 
"  post  prandium  vero  mat — mat — mat" — sorra  be 
in  me  but  I  disremiml)er  the  classic  appellivation 
ov  the  same  article.     Howandiver,   his  Riv'rence 


32  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

went  on  explaining  himself  in  such  a  way  as  no 
scholar  could  mistake.  "  Vesica  mea,"  says  he, 
"  ab  illo  ultimo  eversore  distenditur,  donee  similis 
est  rumpere.  Verbis  apertis,"  says  he,  "  Vesthrae 
Sanctitatis  praesentia  salvata,  aquam  facere  valde 
desidhero." 

"  Ho,  ho,  ho  !"  says  the  Pope,  grabbing  up  his 
box  ;  "  si  inquinavisses  meam  pyxidem,  excimni- 
cari  debuisses.  Hillo,  Anthony,"  says  he  to  his 
head  butler,  "  fetch  Misther  Maguire  a " 

"You  spoke  first !"  says  his  Riv'rence,  jumping 
off  his  sate  :  "  You  spoke  first  in  the  vernacular. 
I  take  Misther  Anthony  to  witness,"  says  he. 

"  What  else  would  you  have  me  to  do  ?"  says 
the  Pope,  quite  dogged  like  to  see  himself  bate 
thataway  at  his  own  waypons.  "  Sure,"  says  he, 
"  Anthony  wouldn't  undherstand  a  B  from  a  bull's 
foot,  if  I  spoke  to  him  any  other  way." 

"  Well,  then,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  in  considher- 
ation  ov  the  needcessity,"  says  he,  '*  I'll  let  you 
off  for  this  time;  but  mind,  now,  afrher  I  say 
pr^sthoj  the  first  of  us  that  spakes  a  word  of  Eng- 
lish is  the  hare — pr^stho  !" 

Neither  ov  them  spoke  for  near   a  minit,  con- 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  ^^ 

sidhering  wid  themselves  how  they  wor  to  begin 
sich  a  great  thrial  ov  shkill.  At  last  says  the 
Pope — the  blessed  man  !  only  think  how  'cute  it 
was  ov  him  ! — "  Domine  Maguire,"  says  he, 
"  valde  desidhero,  certiorem  fieri  de  significatione 
istius  verbi  eversor  quo  jam  jam  usus  es" — (well, 
surely  I  am  the  boy  for  the  Latin  !) 

"  Eversor,  id  est  cyathus,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"  nam  apud  nos  tumbleri,  seu  eversores,  dicti  sunt 
ab  evertendo  ceremonian  inter  amicos  ;  non,  ut 
Temperantiae  Societatis  frigidis  fautoribus  placet, 
ab  evertendis  ipsis  potatoribus."  (It's  not  every 
masther  unher  the  Boord,  I  tell  you,  could  carry 
such  a  car-load  ov  the  dead  langidges.)  "In  agro 
vero  Louthiano  et  Midensi,"  says  he,  "  nomine 
gaudent  quodam  secundum  linguam  Anglicanam 
significante  bombardam  seu  tormentum  ;  quia  ex 
eis  tanquam  ex  telis  jaculatoriis  liquorem  faucibus 
immitere  solent.  Etiam  inter  haereticos  illos 
melanostomos "  (that  was  a  touch  of  Greek), 
"  Presbyterianos  Septentrionales,  qui  sunt  terri- 
biles  potatores,  Cyathi  dicti  sunt  faceres,  et  dim- 
idium  Cyathi  h^f-a-glessus.  Dimidium  Cyathi  vero 
apud  Metropolitanos  Hibernicos  dicitur //^«^." — 


34  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

"  En  verbiim  Anglicanum !"  says  the  Pope, 
clapping  his  hands — "  leporem  te  fecisti  ;"  as 
much  as  to  say  that  he  had  made  a  hare  ov  him- 
self. 

"  Dand^eus,  dandaus^  verbum  erat,"  says  his 
Riv'rence — oh,  the  dear  man,  but  it's  himself  that 
was  handy  ever  and  always  at  getting  out  ov  a 
hobble — '■^  dandaus  verbum  erat,"  says  he,  "quod 
dicturus  eram,  cum  me  intherpillavisti." 

"  Ast  ego  dico,"  says  the  Pope,  very  sharp, 
"  quod  verbum  erat  dandy!' 

"  Per  tibicinem  qui  coram  Mose  modulatus 
est,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "  id  flagellat  mundum  ! 
Dandaus  dixi,  et  tu  dicis  dandy ;  ergo  tu  es  lepus, 
non  ego — Ah,  ha !  Saccavi  vesthram  Sanctita- 
tem  !" 

"  Mendacium  est !"  says  the  Pope,  quite  for- 
getting himself,  he  was  so  mad  at  being  sacked 
before  the  sarvints. 

Well,  if  it  hadn't  been  that  his  Holiness  was  in 
it,  Father  Tom  'ud  have  given  him  the  contints 
of  his  tumbler  betuxt  the  two  eyes  for  calling  him 
a  liar ;  and,  in  troth,  it's  very  well  it  was  in  Latin 
the  offince  was  conveyed,  for,  if  it  had  been  in  the 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  25 

vernacular,  there's  no  saying  what  'ud  ha'  been 
the  consequence.  His  Riv'rence  was  mighty 
angry  anyhow.  — "  Tu  senex  lathro,"  says  he, 
"  quomodo  audes  me  mendacem  praedicare  ?" 

"  Et  tu,  sacrilege  nebulo,"  says  the  Pope, 
"  quomodo  audacitatem  habeas,  me  Dei  in  terrls 
vicarium,  lathronem  conviciari  ?" 

"  Interroga  circumcirca,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"  Abi  ex  asdibus  meis,"  says  the  Pope. 

"  Abi  tu  in  malem  crucem,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

**  Excomunicabo  te,"  says  the  Pope. 

"  Diabolus  curat,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"Anathema  sis,"  says  the  Pope. 

"  Oscula  meum  pod,"  says  his  Riv'rence — but, 
my  dear,  afore  he  could  finish  what  he  was  going 
to  say,  the  Pope  broke  out  into  the  vernacular, 
"  Get  out  o'  my  house,  you  reprobate  !"  says  he, 
in  sich  a  rage  that  he  could  contain  himself  widin 
the  Latin  no  longer. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha! — ho,  ho,  ho!"  says  his  Riv'rence. 
"Who's  the  hare  now,  your  Holiness?  Oh,  by 
this  and  by  that,  I've  sacked  you  clane  !  Clane 
and  clever  I've  done  it,  and  no  mistake  !  You 
see  what  a  bit  ov  desate  will  do  wid  the  wisest, 


2^  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

your  Holiness — sure  it  was  joking  I  was,  on  pur- 
pose to  aggravate  you — all's  fair,  you  know,  in 
love,  law,  and  conthravarsy.  In  troth  if  I'd 
thought  you'd  have  taken  it  so  much  to  heart,  I'd 
have  put  my  head  into  the  fire  afore  I'd  have  said 
a  word  to  offind  you,"  says  he,  for  he  seen  that 
the  Pope  was  very  vexed.  "  Sure,  God  forbid 
that  I'd  say  anything  agin  your  Holiness,  barring 
it  was  in  fun  :  for  arn't  you  the  father  ov  tlie 
faithful,  and  the  thrue  vicar  ov  God  upon  earth  ? 
And  amn't  I  ready  to  go  down  on  my  two  knees 
this  blessed  minit  and  beg  your  epostolical  pardon 
for  every  word  that  I  said  to  your  displasement  ?" 

"  Are  you  in  arnest  that  it  is  in  fun  you  wor  ?" 
says  the  Pope. 

"  May  I  never  die  if  I  amn't,"  says  his  Riv'- 
rence.  "  It  was  all  to  provoke  your  Holiness  to 
commit  a  brache  ov  the  Latin  that  I  tuck  the 
small  liberties  I  did,"  says  he. 

"  I'd  have  you  to  take  care,"  says  the  Pope, 
"  how  you  take  sich  small  liberties  again,  or  may- 
be you'll  provoke  me  to  commit  a  brache  ov  the 
pace." 

"  Well,  and   if  I   did,"   said  his  Riv'rence,   "  I 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  21 

know  a  sartan  preparation  ov  chymicals  that's  very- 
good  for  curing  a  brache  either  in  Latinity  or  frind- 
ship." 

"  What's  that  ?"  says  the  Pope,  quite  mollified, 
and  sitting  down  again  at  the  table  that  he  had  ris 
from  in  the  first  plufFov  his  indignation.  "  What's 
•that?"  says  he,  "for,  'pon  my  Epistolical  'davy, 
I  think  it  'udn't  be  asy  to  bate  this  miraclous  mix- 
thir  that  we've  been  thrying  to  anilize  this  two 
hours  back,"  says  he,  taking  a  mighty  scientifical 
swig  out  ov  the  bottom  ov  his  tumbler. 

"  It's  good  for  a  beginning,"  says  his  Riv'rence: 
**  it  lays  a  very  nate  foundation  for  more  sarious 
operation:  but  we're  now  arrived  at  a  pariod  ov 
the  evening  when  its  time  to  proceed  wid  our 
shuperstructhure  by  compass  and  square,  like  free 
and  excipted  masons  as  we  both  are." 

My  time's  up  for  the  present;  but  I'll  tell  you 
the  rest  in  the  evening  at  home. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HOW    FATHER    TOM    AND     HIS     HOLINESS      DISPUTED 
IN    METAPHYSICS    AND    ALGEBRA. 

vJOD  be  wid  the  time  when  I  went  to  the  clas- 
sical seminary  ov  Firdramore  !  when  I'd  bring  my 
sod  o'  turf  undher  my  arm,  and  sit  down  on  my 
shnug  boss  o'  straw,  wid  my  back  to  the  masther 
and  my  shins  to  the  fire,  and  score  my  sum  in 
Dives's  denominations  or  the  double  rule  o'  three, 
or  play  fox-and-geese  wid  purty  Jane  Cruise  that 
sat  next  me,  as  plisantly  as  the  day  was  long,  wid- 
out  any  one  so  much  as  saying,  "  Mikey  HefFer- 
nan,  what's  that  you're  about  ?" — for  ever  since  I 
was  in  the  one  lodge  wid  poor  ould  Mat  I  had  my 
own  way  in  his  school  as  free  as  ever  I  had  in  my 
mother's  shebeen,  God  be  wid  them  days,  I  say 
again,  for  its  althered  times  wid  me,  I  judge,  since 
I  got  under  Carlisle  and  Whately.  Sich  sthrict- 
ness  !  sich  ordher !  sich  dhrilling,  and  lecthiring, 
and  tuthoring  as  they  do  get  on  wid!      I  wisht  to 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  29 

gracious  the  one-half  ov  their  rules  and  rigilations 
was  sunk  in  the  say.  And  they're  getting  so 
sthrict,  too,  about  having  fair  play  for  the  heretic 
childher  !  We've  to  have  no  more  schools  in  the 
chapels,  nor  masses  in  the  schools.  Oh,  by  this 
and  by  that  it'll  never  do  at  all !  The  ould  plan 
was  twenty  times  betther;  and,  for  my  own  part,  if 
it  wasn't  that  the  clargy  supports  them  in  a  manner, 
and  the  grant's  a  thing  not  easily  don-e  widout 
these  hard  times,  I'd  see  if  I  couldn't  get  a  shelter- 
ed spot  nigh-hand  the  chapel,  and  set  up  again  on 
the  good  ould  principle  :  and  faix,  I  think  our 
Metropolitan  'ud  stand  to  me,  for  I  know  that  his 
Grace's  motto  was  ever  and  always,  that  "  Igno- 
rance is  the  thrue  mother  of  piety." 

But  I'm  running  away  from  my  norration  en- 
tirely, so  I  am.  "You'll  plase  to  ordher  up  the 
housekeeper,  then,"  says  Father  Tom  to  the 
Pope,  "  wid  a  pint  ov  sweet  milk  in  a  skillet, 
and  the  bulk  ov  her  fist  ov  butther,  along  wid 
a  dust  ov  soft  sugar  in  a  saucer,  and  I'll  show 
you  the  way  ov  producing  a  decoction  that,  I'll 
be  bound,  will  hunt  the  thirst  out  ov  every  nook 
and  corner  in  your  Holiness's  blessed  carcidge." 


40  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

The  Pope  ordhered  up  the  ingredients,  and  they 
were  brought  in  by  the  head  butler. 

"  That'll  not  do  at  all,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"  the  ingredients  won't  combine  in  due  proportion 
unless  ye  do  as  I  bid  yez.  Send  up  the  house- 
keeper," says  he,  "  for  a  faymale  hand  is  ondis- 
pinsably  necessary  to  produce  the  adaptation  ov 
the  particles  and  the  concurrence  ov  the  corpuscles, 
without  which  you  might  boil  till  morning,  and 
never  fetch  the  cruds  off  ov  it." 

Well,  the  Pope  whispered  to  his  head  butler, 
and  by-and-by  up  there  comes  an  ould  faggot  ov 
a  Caillean^  that  was  enough  to  frighten  a  horse 
from  his  oats. 

"  Don't  thry  for  to  desave  me,"  says  his  Riv'- 
rence, "  for  it's  no  use,  I  tell  yez.  Send  up  the 
housekeeper,  I  bid  yez:  I  seen  her  preserving 
gooseberries  in  the  panthry  as  I  came  up :  she  has 
eyes  as  black  as  a  sloe,"  says  he,  "and  cheeks  like 
the  rose  in  June ;  and  sorra  taste  ov  this  celestial 
mixthir  shall  crass  the  lips  ov  man  or  mortial  this 
blessed  night  till  she  stirs  the  same  up  wid  her  own 
delicate  little  finger." 

"  Misther  Maguire,"  says  the  Pope,  "  it's  very 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  4 1 

unproper  ov  you  to  spake  that  way  ov  my  house- 
keeper: I  won't  allow  it,  sir." 

"  Honor  bright,  your  Holiness,"  says  his  Riv'- 
rence,  laying  his  hand  on  his  heart. 

"  Oh,  by  this  and  by  that,  Misther  Maguire," 
says  the  Pope,  -^'  I'll  have  none  ov  your  insiniva- 
tions:  I  don't  care  who  sees  my  whole  household," 
says  he  ;  "I  don't  care  if  all  the  faymales  undher 
my  roof  was  paraded  down  the  High  Street  ov 
Room,"  says  he. 

"  Oh,  it's  plain  to  be  seen  how  little  you  care 
who  sees  them,"  says  his  Riv'rence.  "  You're 
afeared,  now,  if  I  was  to  see  your  housekeeper, 
that  I'd  say  she  was  too  handsome." 

"  No,  I'm  not !"  says  the  Pope;   "I  don't  care 

who  sees  her,"  says  he.      "  Anthony,"  says  he  to 

the  head  butler,  "bid  Eliza  throw  her  apron  over 

her  head,  and  come  up  here."     Wasn't  that  stout 

in    the    blessed    man .?      Well,    my  dear,   up    she 

came,  stepping  like  a  three-year-old,  and  blushing 

like    the    break  o'    day :    for    though    her    apron 

was  thrown   over  her  head    as   she    came    forrid, 

till  you  could  barely  see   the   tip   ov  her  chin — 

more  be  token   there   was  a  lovely  dimple  in  it, 
6 


42  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

as  I've  been  tould — yet  she  let  it  shlip  a  bit 
to  one  side,  by  chance  like,  jist  as  she  got  for- 
ninst  the  fire,  and  if  she  wouldn't  have  given  his 
Riv'rence  a  shot  if  he  hadn't  been  a  priest,  it's  no 
matther. 

"  Now,  my  dear,"  says  he,  "you  must  take  that 
skillet,  and  hould  it  over  the  fire  till  the  milk 
comes  to  a  blood-hate  ;  and  the  way  you'll  know 
that  will  be  by  stirring  it  ons't  or  twice  wid  the 
little  finger  ov  your  right  hand,  afore  you  put  in 
the  butther  :  not  that  I  misdoubt,"  says  he,  "but 
that  the  same  finger's  fairer  nor  the  whitest  milk 
that  ever  came  from  the  tit." 

"  None  ov  your  deludhering  talk  to  the  young 
woman,  sir,"  says  the  Pope,  mighty  stern.  "Stir 
the  posset  as  he  bids  you,  Eliza,  and  then  be  off 
wid  yourself,"  says  he. 

"  I  beg  your  Holiness's  pardon  ten  thousand 
times,"  says  his  Riv'rence  ;  "  I'm  sure  I  meant 
nothing  onproper;  I  hope  I'm  uncapable  ov  any 
sich  dirilection  ov  my  duty,"  says  he.  "  But, 
marciful  Saver!"  he  cried  out,  jumping  up  on  a 
suddent,  "look  behind  you,  your  Holiness — I'm 
blest  but  the  room's  on  fire  !" 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  43 

Sure  enough  the  candle  fell  down  that  minit, 
and  was  near  setting  fire  to  the  windy-curtains, 
and  there  was  some  bustle,  as  you  may  suppose, 
getting  things  put  to  rights.  And  now  I  have  to 
tell  you  ov  a  raally  onpleasant  occurrence.  If  I 
was  a  Prodesan  that  was  in  it,  I'd  say  that  while 
the  Pope's  back  was  turned.  Father  Tom  made 
free  wid  the  two  lips  ov  Miss  Eliza;  but,  upon 
my  conscience,  I  believe  it  was  a  mere  mistake 
that  his  Holiness  fell  into  on  account  of  his  being 
an  ould  man,  and  not  having  aither  his  eyesight 
or  his  hearing  very  parfect.  At  any  rate  it  can't 
be  denied  but  that  he  had  a  sthrong  imprission 
that  sich  was  the  case  ;  for  he  wheeled  about  as 
quick  as  thought,  jist  as  his  Riv'rence  was  sitting 
down,  and  charged  him  wid  the  offince  plain  and 
plump.  "  Is  it  kissing  my  housekeeper  before 
my  face  you  are,  you  villain  ?"  says  he.  "  Go 
down  out  o'  this,"  says  he  to  Miss  Eliza;  "and 
do  you  be  packing  off  wid  you,"  he  says  to  Father 
Tom,  "  for  it's  not  safe,  so  it  isn't,  to  have  the 
likes  ov  you  in  a  house  where  there's  temptation 
in  your  way." 

"Is  it  me?"  says  his  Riv'rence;   "why,  what 


44  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

would  your  Holiness  be  at,  at  all  ?  Sure  I  wasn't 
doing  no  sich  thing." 

"  Would  you  have  me  doubt  the  evidence  ov 
my  sinses  ?"  says  the  Pope;  "would  you  have 
me  doubt  the  testimony  ov  my  eyes  and  ears  ?" 
says  he. 

"  Indeed  I  would  so,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "  if 
they  pretind  to  have  informed  your  Holiness  of 
any  sich  foolishness." 

"Why,"  says  the  Pope,  "1  seen  you  afther 
kissing  Eliza  as  plain  as  I  see  the  nose  on  your 
face ;  I  heard  the  smack  you  gave  her  as  plain  as 
ever  I  heard  thundher." 

"  And  how  do  you  know  whether  you  see  the 
nose  on  my  face  or  not  ?"  says  his  Riv'rence  ; 
"and  how  do  you  know  whether  what  you  thought 
was  thundher,  was  thundher  at  all?  Them  opera- 
tions of  the  sinses,"  says  he,  "  comprises  only 
particular  corporayal  emotions,  connected  wid 
sartin  confused  perciptions  called  sinsations,  and 
isn't  to  be  depended  upon  at  all.  If  we  were  to 
follow  them  blind  guides,  we  might  jist  as  well 
turn  heretics  at  ons't.  'Pon  my  secret  word,  your 
Holiness,  it's  naither  charitable  nor  orthodox  ov 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.         ^  45 

you  to  set  up  the  testimony  ov  your  eyes  and 
ears  agin  the  character  ov  a  clergyman.  And 
now,  see  how  aisy  it  is  to  explain  all  them  phwen- 
omena  that  perplexed  you.  I  ris  and  went  over 
beside  the  young  woman  because  the  skillet  was 
boiling  over,  to  help  her  to  save  the  dhrop  ov 
liquor  that  was  in  it ;  and  as  for  the  noise  you 
heard,  my  dear  man,  it  was  neither  more  nor  less 
nor  myself  dhrawing  the  cork  out  ov  this  blissid 
bottle." 

"  Don't  offer  to  thrape  that  upon  me  !"  says 
the  Pope  ;  "here's  the  cork  in  the  bottle  still,  as 
tight  as  a  wedge." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"that's  not  the  cork  at  all,"  says  he  ;  "I  dhrew 
the  cork  a  good  two  minits  ago,  and  it's  very 
purtily  spitted  on  the  end  ov  this  blessed  cork- 
shcrew  at  this  prisint  moment ;  howandiver  you 
can't  see  it,  because  it's  only  its  raal  prisence  that's 
in  it.  But  that  appearance  that  you  call  a  cork," 
says  he,  "  is  nothing  but  the  outward  spacies  and 
external  qualities  ov  the  cortical  nathur.  Them's 
nothing  but  the  accidents  ov  the  cork  that  you're 
looking   at   and   handling ;     but,  as   I    tould   you 


46  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

afore,  the  real  cork's  dhrew,  and  is  here  prisint  on 
the  end  ov  this  nate  little  insthrument,  and  it  was 
the  noise  I  made  in  dhrawing  it,  and  nothing  else, 
that  you  mistook  for  the  sound  ov  the  pogue^ 

You  know  there  was  no  conthravening  what  he 
said ;  and  the  Pope  couldn't  openly  deny  it. 
Howandiver  he  thried  to  pick  a  hole  in  it  this 
way.  "  Granting,"  says  he,  "  that  there  is  the 
differ  you  say  betuxt  the  reality  ov  the  cork  and 
them  cortical  accidents,  and  that  it's  quite  possible, 
as  you  allidge,  that  the  thrue  cork  is  really  prisint 
on  the  end  ov  the  shcrew,  while  the  accidents 
keep  the  mouth  ov  the  bottle  stopped — still," 
says  he,  "  I  can't  undherstand,  though  willing  to 
acquit  you,  how  the  dhrawing  ov  the  real  cork, 
that's  onpalpable  and  widout  accidents,  could  pro- 
duce the  accident  ov  that  sinsible  explosion  I 
heard  jist  now." 

*' All  I  can  say,"  says  his  Riv'rence,   "is,  that 
I'm  sinsible  it  was  a  raal  accident,  anyhow." 

"Ay,"  says  the  Pope,  "The  kiss  you  gev  Eliza, 
you  mane." 

"  No,"  says  his  Riv'rence,   "  but  the   report  I 
made." 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  47 

'*  I  don't  doubt  you,"  says  the  Pope. 

"  No  cork  could  be  dhrew  with  less  noise,"  says 
his  Riv'rence. 

"Itv/ould  be  hard  for  anything  to  be  less  nor 
nothing,  barring  algebra,"  says  the  Pope. 

"  I  can  prove  to  the  conthrary,"  says  his  Riv'- 
rence. "  This  glass  ov  whisky  is  less  nor  that 
tumbler  ov  punch,  and  that  tumbler  ov  punch  is 
nothing  to  this  jug  o{  scaltheeny 

"  Do  you  judge  by  superficial  misure  or  by  the 
liquid  contents  ?"  says  the  Pope. 

"  Don't  stop  me  betuxt  my  premisses  and  my 
conclusion,"  says  his  Riv'rence  ;  "  ^i^go-,  this  glass 
ov  whisky  is  less  nor  nothing;  and  for  that  raison 
I  see  no  harm  in  life  in  adding  it  to  the  contents 
ov  the  same  jug,  just  by  way  ov  a  frost-nail." 

"Adding  what's  less  nor  nothing,"  says  the 
Pope,  "  is  subthraction  according  to  algebra ;  so 
here  goes  to  make  the  rule  good,"  says  he,  filling 
his  tumbler  wid  the  blessed  stuiF,  and  sitting  down 
again  at  the  table,  for  the  anger  didn't  stay  two 
minutes  on  him,  the  good-hearted  ould  sowl. 

"  Two  minuses  makes  one  plus,"  says  his  Riv'- 
rence, as  ready  as  you  plase,   "  and  that'll  account 


48  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

for  the  increased  daycrement  I  mane  to  take  the 
liberty  ov  producing  in  the  same  mixed  quantity," 
says  he,  foUyinghis  Holiness's  epistolical  example. 

"  By  all  that's  good,"  says  the  Pope,  "  that's 
the  best  stuff  I  ever  tasted ;  you  call  it  a  mixed 
quantity,  but  I  say  it's  prime." 

"  Since  it's  ov  the  first  ordher,  then,"  says  his 
Riv'rence,  "we'll  have  the  less  deffeequilty  in  re- 
ducing it  to  a  simple  equation." 

"  You'll  have  no  fractions  at  my  side,  anyhow," 
says  the  Pope.  "  Faix,  I'm  afeard,"  says  he,  "it's 
only  too  aisy  ov  solution  our  sum  is  like  to  be." 

"  Never  fear  for  that,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "  I've 
a  good  stock  ov  surds  here  in  the  bottle  ;  for  I  tell 
you  it  will  take  us  a  long  time  to  exthract  the  root 
ov  it,  at  the  rate  we're  going  on." 

"  What  makes  you  call  the  blessed  quart  an  ir- 
rational quantity?"  says  the  Pope. 

"  Becase  it's  too  much  for  one,  and  too  little  for 
two,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"Clear  it  ov  its  co-efficient,  and  we'll  thry,"  says 
the  Pope. 

"  Hand  me  over  the  exponent,  then,"  says  his 
Riv'rence. 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  49 

"What's  that?"  says  the  Pope. 

"  The  schrew,  to  be  sure,"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"  Sure  the  cork's  dhrew,"  says  the  Pope. 

"  But  the  sperits  can't  get  out  on  account  of  the 
accidents  that's  stuck  in  the  neck  ov  the  bottle," 
says  his  Riv'rence. 

"  Accident  ought  to  be  passable  to  sperit,"  says 
the  Pope,  "and  that  makes  me  suspect  that  the 
reality  ov  the  cork's  in  it  afther  all." 

"  That's  a  barony-masia,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
"  and  I'm  not  bound  to  answer  it.  But  the  fact  is, 
that  it's  the  accidents  ov  the  sperits  too  that's  in  it, 
and  the  reality's  passed  out  through  the  cortical 
spacies  as  you  say ;  for,  you  may  have  observed, 
we've  both  been  in  raal  good  sperits  ever  since  the 
cork  was  dhrawn,  and  where  else  would  the  raal 
sperits  come  from  if  they  would't  come  out  ov  the 
bottle  ?" 

"Well,  then,"  says  the  Pope,  "since  we've  got 
the  reality,  there's  no  use  throubling  ourselves  wid 
the  accidents." 

*'  Oh,  begad,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "  the  acci- 
dents is  very  essential  too  ;  for  a  man  may  be  in 
the  best  of  good  sperits,  as  far  as  his  immaterial 
7 


fO  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

part  goes,  and  yet  need  the  accidental  qualities  ov 
good  liquor  to  hunt  the  sinsible  thirst  out  ov  him." 
So  he  dhraws  the  cork  in  earnest,  and  sets  about 
brewing  the  other  skillet  ov  scaltheen ;  but,  faix, 
he  had  to  get  up  the  ingredients  this  time  by  the 
hands  ov  ould  Molly  ;  though  devil  a  taste  ov  her 
little  finger  he'd  let  widin  a  yard  ov  the  same  de- 
coction. 

But,  my  dear,  here's  the  Freeman  s  Journal^  and 
we'll  see  what's  the  news  afore  we  finish  the  resid- 
uary proceedings  ov  their  two  Holinesses. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    REASON    WHY     FATHER    TOM   WAS    NOT    MADE   A 
CARDINAL. 

HuRROO,  my  darlings  !— didn't  I  tell  you 
it  'ud  never  do  ?  Success  to  bould  John  Tuam 
and  the  old  siminary  of  Firdramore!  Oh,  more 
power  to  your  Grace  every  day  you  rise,  'tis  you 
that  has  broken  their  Boord  into  shivers  undher 
your  feet!  Sure,  and  isn't  it  a  proud  day  for  Ire- 
land, this  blessed  feast  ov  the  chair  ov  Saint  Pe- 
ther?  Isn't  Carlisle  and  Whately  smashed  to 
pieces,  and  their  whole  college  ov  swaddling  teach- 
ers knocked  into  smidhereens.  John  Tuam,  your 
sowl,  has  tuck  his  pasthoral  staff  in  his  hand  and 
heathen  them  out  o'  Connaught  as  fast  ever  Path- 
rick  druve  the  sarpints  into  Clew  Bay.  Poor  ould 
Mat  Kavanagh,  if  he  was  alive  this  day,  'tis  he 
would  be  the  happy  man.  "  My  curse  upon  their 
g'ographies  and  Bibles,"  he  used  to  say  ;    ''  where's 


52  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

the  use  ov  perplexing  the  poor  childer  wid  what 
we  don't  undherstand  ourselves?"  no  use  at  all,  in 
troth,  and  so  I  said  from  the  first  myself.  Well, 
thank  God  and  his  Grace,  we'll  have  no  more 
thrigonomethry  nor  scripther  in  Connaught.  We'll 
hould  our  lodges  every  Saturday  night,  as  we  used 
to  do,  wid  our  chairman  behind  the  masther's 
desk,  and  we'll  hear  our  mass  every  Sunday  morn- 
ing wid  the  blessed  priest  standing  afore  the  same. 
r  wisht  to  goodness  I  hadn't  parted  wid  my  Seven 
Champions  ov  Christendom  and  Freney  the  Rob- 
ber ;  they're  books  that'll  be  in  great  requist  in 
Leithrim  as  soon  as  the  pasthoral  gets  wind.  Glory 
be  to  God!    I've  done  v/id  their  lecthirs — they  may 

all  go  and  be  d d  wid  their  consumption  and 

production.  I'm  off  to  Tullymactaggart  before 
daylight  in  the  morning,  .where  I'll  thry  whether  a 
sod  or  two  o'  turf  can't  consume  a  cartload  ov 
heresy,  and  whether  a  weekly  meeting  ov  the  lodge 
can't  produce  a  new  thayory  ov  rints.  But  afore  I 
take  my  lave  ov  you,  I  may  as  well  finish  my 
story  about  poor  Father  Tom  that  I  hear  is  com- 
ing up  to  whale  the  heretics  in  Adam  and  Eve 
during  the  Lint. 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  ^2 

The  Pope — and  indeed  it  ill  becomes  a  good 
Catholic  to  say  anything  agin  him — no  more  would 
I,  only  that  his  Riv'rence  was  in  it — but  you  see 
that  the  fact  ov  it  is,  that  the  Pope  was  as  envious 
as  ever  he  could  be,  at  seeing  himself  sacked  right 
and  left  by  Father  Tom,  and  bate  out  o'  the  face, 
the  way  he  was,  on  every  science  and  subjec'  that 
was  started.  So,  not  to  be  outdone  altogether,  he 
says  to  his  Riv'rence,  "  You're  a  man  that's  fond 
ov  the  brute  crayation,  I  hear,  Misther  Ma- 
guirer 

"I  don't  deny  it,"  says  his  Riv'rence;  "I've 
dogs  that  I'm  willing  to  run  agin  any  man's,  ay,  or 
to  match  them  agin  any  other  dogs  in  the  world 
for  genteel  edication  and  polite  manners,"  says  he. 

"  I'll  hould  you  a  pound,"  says  the  Pope,  "that 
I've  a  quadhruped  in  my  possession  that's  a  wiser 
baste  nor  any  dog  in  your  kennel." 

'*  Done,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  and  they  staked 
the  money. 

"  What  can  this  larned  quadhruped  o'  yours 
do?"  says  his  Riv'rence. 

"  It's  my  mule,"  says  the  Pope,  *'  and  if  you 
were  to  offer  her  goolden  oats  and  clover  off  the 


54  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

meadows  o'  Paradise,  sorra  taste  ov  aither  she'd 
let  pass  her  teeth  till  the  first  mass  is  over  every 
Sunday  or  holiday  in  the  year." 

"  Well,  and  what  'ud  you  say  if  I  showed  you 
a  baste  of  mine,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "  that,  in- 
stead ov  fasting  till  first  mass  is  over  only,  fasts 
out  the  whole  four-and-twenty  hours  ov  every 
Wednesday  and  Friday  in  the  week  as  reg'lar  as  a 

Christian?" 

"  Oh,    be    aisy,    Misther    Maguire,"    says    the 

Pope. 

"You  don't  b'lieve  me,  don't  you?"   says  his 

Riv'rence  ;  "  very  well,  I'll  soon  show  you  whether 

or  no,"  and  he  puts  his   knuckles  in  his   mouth, 

and  gev  a  whistle  that  made  the   Pope  stop  his 

fingers    in    his   ears.      The  aycho,    my   dear,    was 

hardly  done  playing  wid  the  cobwebs  in  the  cor- 

nish,   when    the    door    flies   open,   and   in  jumps 

Spring.     The   Pope  happened  to  be  sitting  next 

the  door,  betuxt  him  and  his  Riv'rence,  and,  may 

I  never  die,  if  he  didn't  clear  him,  thriple  crown 

and  all,  at  one  spang.      "  God's  presence  be  about 

us  !"  says  the  Pope,  thinking  it  was  an  evil  spirit 

come  to  fly  away  wid  him   for  the  lie  that  he  had 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  55 

tould  in  regard  ov  his  mule  (for  it  was  nothing 
more  nor  a  thrick  that  consisted  in  grasing  the 
brute's  teeth):  but,  seeing  it  was  one  ov  the  great- 
est beauties  ov  a  grayhound  that  he'd  ever  laid  his 
epistolical  eyes  on,  he  soon  recovered  ov  his  fright, 
and  began  to  pat  him,  while  Father  Tom  ris  and 
went  to  the  sideboord,  where  he  cut  a  slice  ov 
pork,  a  slice  ov  beef,  a  slice  ov  mutton,  and  a 
slice  ov  salmon,  and  put  them  all  On  a  plate  the- 
gither.  "  Here,  Spring,  my  man,"  says  he,  set- 
ting the  plate  down  afore  him  on  the  hearthstone, 
"  here's  your  supper  for  you  this  blessed  Friday 
night."  Not  a  word  more  he  said  nor  what  I  tell 
you  ;  and,  you  may  believe  it  or  not,  but  it's  the 
blessed  truth  that  the  dog,  afther  jist  tasting  the 
salmon,  and  spitting  it  out  again,  lifted  his  nose 
out  o'  the  plate,  and  stood  wid  his  jaws  wathering, 
and  his  tail  wagging,  looking  up  in  his  Riv'rence's 
face,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  Give  me  your  absolu- 
tion, till  I  hide  them  temptations  out  o'  my 
sight." 

"  There's  a  dog  that  knows  his  duty,"  says  his 
Riv'rence ;  "there's  a  baste  that  knows  how  to 
conduct  himself  aither  in  the  parlor  or  the  field. 


56  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

You  think  him  a  good  dog,  looking  at  him  here ; 
but  I  wisht  you  seen  him  on  the  side  ov  Slieve- 
an-Eirin  !  Be  my  soul,  you'd  say  the  hill  was 
running  away  from  undher  him.  Oh  I  wisht  you 
had  been  wid  me,"  says  he,  never  letting  on  to  see 
the  dog  at  all,  "  one  day,  last  Lint,  that  I  was 
coming  from  mass.  Spring  was  near  a  quarther  ov 
a  mile  behind  me,  for  the  childher  was  delaying 
him  wid  bread  and  butther  at  the  chapel  door; 
when  a  lump  ov  a  hare  jumped  out  ov  the  planta- 
tions ov  Grouse  Lodge  and  ran  acrass  the  road ; 
so  I  gave  the  whilloo,  and  knowing  that  she'd  take 
the  rise  ov  the  hill,  I  made  over  the  ditch,  and  up 
through  Mullagheashel  as  hard  as  I  could  pelt, 
still  keeping  her  in  view,  but  afore  I  had  gone  a 
perch.  Spring  seen  her,  and  away  the  two  went 
like  the  wind,  up  Drumrewry,  and  down  Cloo- 
neen,  and  over  the  river,  widout  his  being  able 
ons't  to  turn  her.  Well,  I  run  on  till  I  came  to 
the  Diffagher,  and  through  it  I  went,  for  the  wa- 
ther  was  low  and  1  didn't  mind  being  wet  shod, 
and  out  on  the  other  side,  where  I  got  up  on  a 
ditch,  and  seen  sich  a  coorse  as  I'll  be  bound  to 
say  was   never  seen   afore   or    since.      If   Spring 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  57 

turned  that  hare  ons't  that  day,  he  turned  her  fifty- 
times,  up  and  down,  back  and  for'ard  throughout 
and  about.  At  last  he  run  her  right  into  the  big 
quarryhole  in  Mullaghbawn,  and  when  I  went  up 
to  look  for  her  fud,  there  I  found  him  sthretched 
on  his  side,  not  able  to  stir  a  foot,  and  the  hare 
lying  about  an  inch  afore  his  nose  as  dead  as  a  door- 
nail, and  divil  a  mark  ov  a  tooth  upon  her.  Eh, 
Spring,  isn't  that  thrue  ?"  says  he.  Jist  at  that 
minit  the  clock  sthruck  twelve,  and,  before  you 
could  say  thrap-sticks,  Spring  had  the  plateful  ov 
mate consaled.  "Now,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "hand 
me  over  my  pound,  for  I've  won  my  bate  fairly." 

"You'll  excuse  me,"  says  the  Pope,  pocketing 
his  money,  "for  we  put  the  clock  half  an  hour 
back,  out  ov  compliment  to  your  Riv'rence,"  says 
he,  "and  it  was  Sathurday  morning  afore  he  came 
up  at  all." 

"  Well,  it's  no  matther,"  says  his  Riv'rence, 
putting  back  his  pound-note  in  his  pocket-book, 
"only,"  says  he,  "it's  hardly  fair  to  expect  a  brute 
baste  to  be  so  well  skilled  in  the  science  ov  chron- 
ology." 

In  troth  his  Riv'rence  was  badly  used  in  the 
8 


58  FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 

same  bate,  for  he  won  it  clever;  and,  indeed, I'm 
afraid  the  shabby  way  he  was  thrated  had  some 
effect  in  putting  it  into  his  mind  to  do  what  he 
did.  "Will  your  Holiness  take  a  blast  ov  the 
pipe?"  says  he,  dhrawing  out  his  dhudeen. 

"I  never  smoke,"  says  the  Pope,  "but  I  haven't 
the  laste  objection  to  the  smell  ov  the  tobaccay." 

"Oh,  you  had  better  take  a  dhraw,"  says  his 
Riv'rence,  "it'll  relish  the  dhrink,  that 'ud  be  too 
luscious  entirely,  widout  something  to  flavor  it." 

"I  had  thoughts,"  said  the  Pope,  wid  the  laste 
sign  ov  a  hiccup  on  him,  "ov  getting  up  a  broiled 
bone  for  the  same  purpose." 

"Well,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "a  broiled  bone 
'ud  do  no  manner  ov  harm  at  this  present  time;  but 
a  smoke,"  says  he,  " 'ud  flavor  both  the  divil  and 
the  dhrink." 

"What  sort  o'  tobaccay  is  it  that's  in  it?"  says 
the  Pope. 

"  Raal  nagur-head,"  says  his  Riv'rence;  "a 
very  mild  and  salubrious  spacies  ov  the  philo- 
sophic weed." 

"  Then,  I  don't  care  if  I  do  take  a  dhraw,"  says 
the  Pope.     Then  Father  Tom  held  the  coal  him- 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  59 

self  till  his  Holiness  had  the  pipe  lit ;  and  they  sat 
widout  saying  anything  worth  mentioning  for  about 
five  minutes. 

At  last  the  Pope  says  to  his  Riv'rence:  "I 
dunna  what  gev  me  this  plaguy  hiccup,"  says  he. 
"Dhrink  about,"  says  he — "  Begorra,"  he  says, 
"I  think  I'm  getting  merrier  nor's  good  for  me. 
Sing  us  a  song,  your  Riv'rence,"  says  he. 

Father  Tom  then  sung  him  Monatagrenoge  and 
the  Bunch  o'  Rushes,  and  he  was  mighty  well 
pleased  wid  both,  keeping  time  wid  his  hands,  and 
joining  in  the  choruses,  when  his  hiccup  'ud  let 
him.  At  last,  my  dear,  he  opens  the  lower  buttons 
ov  his  waistcoat,  and  the  top  one  ov  his  waistband, 
and  calls  to  Master  Anthony  to  lift  up  one  ov  the 
windys.  "I  dunna  what's  wrong  wid  me,  at  all  at 
all,"  says  he,  "  I'm  mortial  sick." 

"I  thrust,"  says  his  Riv'rence,  "thepasthry  that 
you  ate  at  dinner  hasn't  disagreed  wid  your  Holi- 
ness's  stomach." 

"Oh  my  !  oh  !"  says  the  Pope,  "what's  this  at 
all  ?"  gasping  for  breath,  and  as  pale  as  a  sheet, 
wid  a  could  swate  bursting  out  over  his  forehead, 
and  the  palms  ov  his  hands  spread  out  to  catch  the 


6o 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE. 


air.  "Oh  my! — oh  my!"  says  he,  "fetch  me 
a  basin  ! — Don't  spake  to  me.  Oh  ! — oh  ! — blood 
alive  ! — Oh,  my  head,  my  head,  hould  my  head  ! — 
oh  ! — ubh  ! — I'm  poisoned  ! — ach  !" 

"It  was  them  plaguy  pasthries,"  says  his  Riv'- 
rence.  "Hould  his  head  hard,"  says  he,  "and 
clap  a  wet  cloth  over  his  timples.  If  you  could 
only  thry  another  dhraw  o'  the  pipe,  your  Holi- 
ness, it  'ud  set  you  to  rights  in  no  time." 

"Carry  me  to  bed,"  says  the  Pope,  "and  never 
let  me  see  that  wild  Irish  priest  again.  I'm 
poisoned  by  his  manes — ubplsch  ! — ach  ! — ach  ! 
— He  dined  wid  Cardinal  Wayld  yesterday,"  says 
he,  "and  he's  bribed  him  to  take  me  off.  Send 
for  a  confissor,"  says  he,  "  for  my  latther  end's 
approaching.  My  head's  like  to  split — so  it  is  ! — 
Oh  my  !  oh  my  ! — ubplsch  ! — ach  !" 

Well,  his  Riv'rence  never  thought  it  worth  his 
while  to  make  him  an  answer ;  but,  when  he  seen 
how  ungratefully  he  was  used,  afther  all  his 
throuble  in  making  the  evening  agreeable  to  the 
ould  man,  he  called  Spring,  and  put  the  but-end 
ov  the  second  bottle  into  his  pocket,  and  left  the 
house    widout    once   wishing     "  Good-night,    an' 


FATHER  TOM  AND  THE  POPE.  6 1 

plaisant  dhrames  to  you  ;"  and,  in  troth,  not  one 
of  them  axed  him  to  lave  them  a  lock  ov  his  hair. 
That's  the  story  as  I  heard  it  tould ;  but  myself 
doesn't  b'lieve  over  one-half  ov  it.  Howandiver, 
when  all's  done,  it's  a  shame,  so  it  is,  that  he's  not 
a  bishop  this  blessed  day  and  hour :  for,  next  to 
the  goiant  ov  St.  Jarlath's,  he's  out  and  out  the 
cleverest  fellow  ov  the  whole  jing-bang. 


)    1 


